


Right Things Wrong

by stjarna



Series: Season 4 - Coda Challenge [24]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Although I think it really goes way beyond coda, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bus Kids - Freeform, Coda, Coda Challenge, Coda Challenge @The FitzSimmons Network, F/M, Gen, Incorporates stuff from the promo but not sneak peeks, P.S. I drank too much caffein today and it shows. I'm rambling even more than usual., Post S04E14 The Man Behind the Shield, Some bus kids, Some parts will feel really rushed, Spoilers, before the new sneak peek came out, but oh well the story still kinda works (just maybe not the beginning), it's basically what I thought 4x15 would look like, sorry bout that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 04:50:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9803264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: Basically what I had imagined 4x15 would look like (well it *wouldn't* have looked like that because the AoS writers never listen to me, but it would have been nice)[The new second sneak peek kinda throws a wrench in the beginning of my story (but I wasn't gonna re-write a 5700+ word fic because of the sneak peek :) ), but most of the fic could still sort of work, so I hope you nonetheless enjoy it]





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AGL03](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGL03/gifts).



> Title based on the song [“Right Things Wrong” by Little Red Wolf](https://www.google.com/url?q=https://littleredwolf.bandcamp.com/track/right-things-wrong&sa=D&ust=1487359231394000&usg=AFQjCNHsKPf2uWXm07lEpNv0HuQQvPToTw)
> 
> For @AGL03. Some of this is inspired by your meta, but in most cases we were just once again thinking very much alike ;)
> 
> Disclaimer: I apologize if some of the story feels a bit rushed. Not my best style, but I felt like the fic was already getting out of hand because it's basically the entire next episode as I had envisioned it rather than one coda scene and so I decided to sometimes kinda sum things up more quickly just to transition between some of the major scenes.

Her eyes wander from the three people talking in the hallway back to the still image of them and Mace. Except that wasn’t the correct word anymore. People. Friends. Colleagues. It wasn’t them. They’d been replaced. The base had been infiltrated. Again. And they had no clue as to what their adversaries’ endgame was.

“We need to confirm that they’re all actually LMDs,” Fitz says quietly behind her.

“We have proof right here,” Jemma responds, gesturing at the still image from the LMD detector, trying not to draw anyone’s attention.

“It’s been wrong before,” Fitz counters, barely above a whisper. “The other day it went off because of a bloody coat hanger. I mean, we’ve managed to iron out most of the kinks,” he adds, scratching his neck, “but it could be wrong. Coulson’s arm. Daisy’s gauntlets. Mack’s goddamn shotgun axe. That’s a whole lot of metal and tech that could give us a false positive.”

“Do you think it’s wrong about all _four_ of them?” Jemma asks, feeling like she’s asking a rhetorical question.

“No,” Fitz replies, slumping his shoulders. “But we can’t go and hunt down four possible LMDs if not all of them _are_ LMDs.” His eyes wander briefly to the hallway, before darting back to Jemma. “Imagine me pulling a number like on _him_ and it turns out I just shot Daisy in the bloody head?”

Jemma sighs. “So how do we do it?”

Fitz shrugs. “We just came back from a mission. Tell them you need to run some medical tests. Make up something. Start with Mace. Should be the easiest one! He sustained the most serious injuries.”

Jemma exhales sharply and shakes her head in discontent. “Fine. I’ll figure something out. But we have to get reinforcements. Inform… _someone_. _Talbot!_ ” she exclaims, her eyes darting to the side immediately when she realizes that she has raised her voice a tad too much.

Fitz nods. “I’ll go to the server room to try and get an encrypted message to Talbot,” he remarks.

“Be careful!” Jemma says, grabbing his arm and gazing into his eyes, asking him for a promise.

He nods. “You too,” he replies, before heading out of the lab.

 

* * *

 

“Well, all things considered, I’m really quite relieved that the injuries you sustained weren’t more significant,” Jemma says, her lips twitching nervously as she looks at Mace’s robot standing in front of her in a grey business suit. “However,” she adds, “I was hoping to run a few more tests, just to be sure we didn’t miss anything the first time around.”

“I believe you were more than thorough, Agent Simmons,” Mace counters, smiling his familiar smug smile. “I don’t think any further tests will be necessary.”

“Well, just to ease my mind,” Jemma replies, shrugging her shoulders. “Wouldn’t want you to hit me with a negligence lawsuit a few days from now,” she attempts to joke, but Mace’s face seems to grow colder.

Her heartbeat quickens, and slowly she reaches behind her back for the gun she’s been hiding.

But then the corners of his mouth quirk up again. “I assure you that won’t happen, Agent Simmons. I think we should focus on other, more _pressing_ matters.”

“Of course,” Jemma replies, forcing a smile that she knows he doesn’t buy anymore.

He knows. The question was what would he do with that information.

 

* * *

 

“Bloody hell, where have you been?” Jemma whispers, when Fitz returns to the lab about ten minutes later.

“Getting a message out to Talbot, what did you think?” he replies, gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder towards the door.  “Let’s hope he doesn’t show up with a missile launcher to raze the entire compound to the ground, because he’s too paranoid to confirm that not everyone is a bloody LMD.”

“Come here,” Jemma says in a hushed voice, grabbing him by the arm and pushing him down to sit on a chair, more-or-less ignoring his reply.

He looks at her bewildered; even more so when Jemma quickly pulls back his sleeve. Before he can react, she jabs the needle into his arm.

“Ouch. What the—?” he exclaims, trying to keep his voice down.

“I need proof,” Jemma replies matter-of-factly, working quickly to analyze the blood sample.

“That I’m _me_?” Fitz asks, slightly befuddled.

“Yes,” Jemma replies sternly, turning back to face him, holding a medical scanner she had grabbed from the workbench. “I don’t want to run around this base worrying if you’re just another person I cannot trust.” She begins scanning him. “When Hydra came out of the shadows you made me tell you that I wasn’t Hydra. Today, you’re going to return the favor,” she adds. She takes a deep breath and looks into his eyes. “Tell me you’re not an LMD!”

She knows the answer. His blood and the scanner had confirmed it. But she needs to hear him say it.

“I’m not an LMD,” he replies calmly, and somewhere in the back of her mind she sees two younger versions of themselves sitting side by side, their feet bathing in a motel swimming pool.

Jemma exhales in relief. “Then I’m sure you didn’t mind that I double-checked,” she says, waving the scanner in front of him, raising her eyebrows.

“Of course not,” he replies, one corner of his mouth quirking up. “Now will you let me run the same tests on you?” he asks. “Just for good measure?”

“Of course,” Jemma agrees, a shy smile appearing on her lips as she hands him the device.

“They know, don’t they?” Fitz remarks matter-of-factly, while he confirms that she’s flesh and blood.

“Yes,” Jemma admits begrudgingly. “Mace refused further medical tests and I could just tell _he_ knew _I_ knew and… ugh!” She closes her eyes and exhales sharply, before looking back at Fitz. “I’m just waiting for the next bomb to drop.”

“Just a _week_ without someone trying to kill us would be nice,” Fitz mutters, closing his eyes and shaking his head in disbelief. “Or a _day_!”

“I got _one_ piece of good news though,” Jemma remarks half-heartedly, forcing a smile.

“What?”

“Daisy’s not an LMD.”

“You sure?” Fitz asks, wide-eyed.

“Yes,” Jemma nods, “she came to me because the stitches on her shoulder reopened and I took the opportunity to run some tests… without her getting suspicious.”

“Excellent,” Fitz exclaims, his voice bright and hopeful. “What does _she_ think we should do?”

“Hell if I know,” Jemma replies, shrugging her shoulders. “Before I could tell her anything, Mace showed up and she left.”

“Bloody hell,” Fitz growls through his teeth. “What do we do now?” he adds more quietly.

“We need to get out of here,” Jemma whispers.

“We can’t, Jemma,” Fitz replies, leaning in closer. “I wasn’t kidding about the storm front. We’re gonna be trapped in here in less than ten minutes. It’ll be insane to try and get out.”

“More insane than staying at a base with LMD infiltrators who know we’re on to them?” Jemma replies, widening her eyes for emphasis.

Fitz lets his head drop back in frustration. “Which way d’we go?”

 

* * *

 

They don’t get far before the base goes on lockdown.

It doesn’t take them long to figure out why when Fitz manages to hack into the video and audio feed of the common area.

“The base is on a complete lockdown,” the LMD impersonating Mace addresses the people in the room. “I’m afraid Agents Leopold Fitz and Jemma Simmons have been replaced by LMDs.”

A gasp echoes through the room as their colleagues exchange worried looks.

“I’m ordering everyone to return to and remain in their quarters,” Mace continues. “A selected team of tact officers and special operatives will sweep the base to disable and capture the infiltrators.”

“Icers won’t do much harm against LMDs,” Fitzsimmons hear Daisy interject.

“That’s why we’re not using icers,” Mace replies coldly. “Just try to capture them without too much damage, okay? We _need_ them for intel and the two scientists who could repair them if you shoot them in the head aren’t here to fix the problem,” he lies, but Fitzsimmons know what it means.

They’re next on the replacement list.

 

* * *

 

It becomes a cat and mouse game. Soon, the lights go out and everything goes dark around them, only a few battery-powered emergency lights left.

They stay together, managing to avoid several close calls, a run-in with May’s tact team in full gear and fully armed. Disable and Capture.

Now, they’re rummaging through the Tool Shed (as Mack had started to call the supply room holding most of the larger mechanical equipment and tools), trying to arm themselves since the LMDs had cut off their access to the armory.

Fitz spins around in shock when he hears the familiar quiet rumbling caused by Daisy’s powers. He sees the door fling open.

Daisy’s look is furious. She quakes Jemma against the wall, who falls down unconscious.

Fitz screams and tries to rush to Jemma, but Daisy stretches out her arm and he feels himself flying through the air against the wall.

He watches in horror as his best friend walks towards him while he struggles for air. It feels strangely familiar. She wasn’t herself the other time. Possessed by Hive. This time, she thinks _he_ is not himself.

Daisy stops in front of him. She releases him from her powers and pins him against the wall instead, holding him firmly in place by the shoulder while pulling a gun from her holster.

“Where’s Radcliffe?” Daisy hisses, bringing her gun closer to Fitz’s face. “Where’s he hiding May? Where are the real Fitzsimmons?”

“Daisy, I’m not an LMD. We’re not LMDs,” Fitz tries to argue, his hand frantically grabbing for the arm that’s pressing him against the wall.

“Fine,” Daisy growls through her teeth, “have it your way.”

She aims the gun at Jemma’s unconscious body.

“No!” Fitz screams, trying desperately to free himself from Daisy’s grasp.

“He’s telling the truth,” a familiar and calm voice says across the room.

Daisy’s head shoots around. Her gun now aimed at May. “Who the hell turned you back on?”

“Coulson,” May replies matter-of-factly. She tilts her head slightly. “Well. His LMD,” she adds, the corner of her mouth quirking into an almost mischievous smile.

“What?” Daisy exclaims in shock. “What the _fuck_ is going on?” Fitz sees her tightening the grip on her gun.

“Coulson has been replaced,” Jemma’s groggy voice can be heard.

Fitz’s head spins around, and he’s relieved to see Jemma breathing, lifting her head and trying to push herself up on shaky arms. He’s even more relieved that for whatever reason, Daisy hasn’t shot any of them… _yet_.

“As well as Mace and Mack,” Jemma continues matter-of-factly, slowly pulling herself up to standing, her face grimacing in pain.

Daisy begins to turn, aiming her gun alternatingly at Jemma, May, and Fitz. Her eyes are wide.

“ _You’re_ the LMDs,” she exclaims, reaching for her ear in an attempt to activate the comms and call for backup.

“ _I_ am. They’re _not_ ,” May replies, and Fitz watches in shock as she slowly walks closer to Daisy, who seems frozen, staring at the LMD in front of her.

“But they’re after them,” May continues. “They want Fitzsimmons. Want to replace them as well. They’re not going after _you_ because they don’t know how to replicate your powers.”

“Why would I trust _anything_ you say?” Daisy asks coldly, pointing her gun at May.

“You don’t have to,” May replies, throwing one of the handheld medical scanners towards Daisy, who catches the device, staring down at it.

“Get your own proof,” May adds. “Scan _me_ first. It’ll confirm that this thing,” she gestures at the scanner with her head, “can distinguish real flesh and blood from whatever I’m made of.”

Slowly Daisy walks over to May with the scanner, her gun still raised.

Next she scans Simmons. Then Fitz.

“Sorry about quaking you… again,” Daisy mumbles quietly before lowering her weapon.

Fitz gazes into her eyes for a second, hoping it’ll convey that he understands, before rushing over to Jemma, who whispers “I’m okay,” as soon as his worrying hand lands on her back.

“Why would you tell us all that?” Daisy asks, addressing May again.

“Because I completed the mission Radcliffe programmed me to do,” May replies. “I retrieved the Darkhold. I gave it to him. My loyalties no longer lie with him, even though he seems to think he still has some kind of power over me.”

May pauses, her eyes wandering from person to person. She tilts her head. “Well, he doesn’t. I’m May. I _think_ like her. I have the same _ethics_. And he’s _not_ going to make me betray my team _twice_.”

She clenches her jaw. “He told me I wasn’t built to last. Well, I’m planning on lasting just long enough to kick his LMDs and his ass back to the Dark Ages.”

“So what do we do now?” Daisy asks, looking at the three other people in the room.

“Fitz managed to get a message out to Talbot,” Jemma reports. “Backup should be on its way… hopefully.”

“I’ll help you get out of here,” May says, taking a step closer, and Jemma and Daisy nod in agreement.

“No,” Fitz mumbles somberly.

“ _What?_ ” Daisy exclaims.

“Fitz?” Jemma asks more quietly.

Fitz takes a deep breath. “Let them take me.”

Jemma’s eyes widen in shock. “What are you talking about Fitz?”

“Are you insane?” Daisy adds.

“We need to tap into Radcliffe’s Framework to try and shut it down,” Fitz tries to explain his plan. “If they take me there, if they put me in, I can tap it. I can be the link we need. I can figure out how it works. Maybe even shut it down from the inside.”

“No,” Jemma interjects, her voice stern, but unable to hide her fear. “That’s _insane_ , Fitz.” She shrugs her shoulders, her hands gesturing nervously. “You wouldn’t _know_ that you were in a simulation. They would alter your memories. You would have _no_ link to the real world. You’d be trapped.”

“ _You’ll_ be my link to the real world, Jemma!” Fitz replies, turning slightly to look directly at her, placing his hand reassuringly on her shoulder and leaning his head closer.

“Fitz—” she whispers, her eyes shimmering, filled with fear.

“Jemma,” Fitz replies equally quiet, keeping his voice calm. “We said we’d fix this together. I’ll be on the inside. You and Daisy will be on the outside. Brains never delete files and we have plenty of backups. We just sometimes lose connections to our memories. Links. You know that. _You’ll_ be my link. You’re _always_ my link. _You’re_ my constant! You’ll … you’ll send me a sign. Something I’ll recognize… a message—”

Their heads shoot up when they hear heavy boots in the corridor, quiet but getting louder.

Fitz continues more quickly. “Please, Jemma, please. Together! We can do this. I _know_ we can. I _know_ you’ll come for me. And once I get your message, I’ll fight it. I _know_ I will! Because no virtual reality, no matter how perfect, could ever replace you. I’ll know!”

His face is so close to hers that Fitz can feel Jemma’s anxious breath on his cheeks.

She’s fighting back tears, but nods and takes a step back, grabbing Daisy’s arm, and turning to May. “ _You_ make sure they don’t hurt him,” she orders the LMD. “And if you turn your back on us, I _swear_ I will disassemble you wire by wire and screw by screw and I _know_ you can feel the pain,” she adds through gritted teeth.

“I’ll watch out for him as much as I can,” May replies calmly and walks over to Fitz. “You two need to get out of here. _Now!_ ”

 

* * *

 

Jemma and Daisy never make it out of the compound. Like the person he’s modeled after, Coulson’s LMD knows every nook and cranny, every secret passage on the base, and he’s made sure they’re all locked in for good.

Begrudgingly, Jemma agrees to split up to heighten their chances of _one_ of them making it out.

Coulson corners her when she reaches the hangar. But Jemma vows not to go without a fight.

When Jemma manages to smash Coulson’s LMD over the head with a mallet, she has to admit that it feels rather satisfying after he had almost knocked her out with his gun, leaving her forehead bloody and bruised and her ribs aching.

 _I’m getting quite good at this_ , she thinks to herself, trying to catch her breath, barely managing to hold on to the hammer in her hands. But when Coulson’s LMD at her feet begins to move, she realizes that her blow wasn’t quite enough to take down the robot entirely.

Luckily, May rushes in, helping Jemma finish him off. Coulson’s LMD is noticeably surprised to see May turn on him.

 

* * *

 

Daisy manages to take out Mack. Pain shoots down her arms from being forced to use her powers without her gauntlets. She clenches her jaw, swallows her pain, her anger and channels it. She grabs Mack’s shotgun axe, gets up and strides forward like in a berserk frenzy, making short work of Mace, the last LMD standing.

 

* * *

 

Once the dust has settled and Jemma hears Talbot’s familiar booming voice shouting orders to his men, she takes a deep breath, resting her hands on her knees.

Her head shoots up when Daisy enters the room, her clothes ripped and torn, bruises starting to form on her arms.

“Did we get them all?” Jemma asks, looking up from her bent-forward position, still too weak to stand up straight.

“I got Mack and Mace,” Daisy reports, Mack’s shotgun axe dangling by her side. “Looks like you took care of Coulson,” she adds, gesturing at Coulson’s disabled LMD on the floor.

Jemma nods weakly, grimacing in pain when she straightens her body. “What happened to Fitz?” she asks, turning to face May.

“Two of Ivanov’s men took him in a helicopter,” May explains, matter-of-factly. “They iced him. But he was otherwise unharmed.”

Jemma exhales. It’s not exactly a sigh of relief, but a relief nonetheless.

“They left Fitz’s LMD here, but I took care of it on the spot,” May adds, and Jemma feels her stomach tighten at the thought.

 

* * *

 

Jemma knows it isn’t him, but she can’t stop a tear from rolling down her cheek when she sees Fitz’s lifeless, artificial body lying next to those of Coulson, Mace, and Mack.

Fitz had put himself in danger to give them a fighting chance.

Now that the base was secured and Talbot’s men were helping their agents clean up the mess, it was time for Jemma, Daisy, and May’s LMD to move on to the next phase: find the Framework and get their people out.

It takes Daisy almost forty-eight sleepless hours to hack into Coulson’s program and retrieve information on where Fitz had been taken.

The ambush on the secret compound works flawlessly. For once, all their stars seem to align.

May continues to make true on her promise to kick the LMDs back to the Dark Ages. But in all fairness, it’s a team effort until AIDA is destroyed.

 

* * *

 

To their surprise, they find Radcliffe logged into the Framework like everyone else.

They’re lined up side by side, the Framework’s hardware resting on their heads, medical equipment monitoring their stats, IVs dripping fluids into their immobile bodies.

The lingering smiles on their faces add to the grotesque and eerie atmosphere.

“What now?” Daisy asks, her eyes aimlessly wandering around the room.

“Fitz is our link,” Jemma remarks, staring at his serene face, resisting the urge to rip the headgear away.

“Okay, high school dropout needs more information,” Daisy replies.

“We need to get into his programming. His scenario. Give him a message,” Jemma explains.

“But it’s all… it’s all happening in his mind,” Daisy mutters, still somewhat confused.

“Yes,” Jemma confirms.

“Are you saying you want me to hack into your boyfriend’s _brain_?” Daisy replies, wrinkling her forehead in shock and gesturing at Fitz’s immobile body.

“Yes,” Jemma exclaims, nodding her head once. “That’s _exactly_ what I’m saying.”

Jemma stares into her best friend’s eyes, silently pleading with her.

“Ugh,” Daisy scoffs. She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “You know, sometimes I think… _hey_ , I’ve seen it all… nothing’s gonna phase me now, but _this_ … it’s a new one. Weird as fuck,” Daisy rambles on while sitting down in front of the main computer, beginning to type vigorously.

“Can you put his scenario up on the second monitor?” Jemma asks, standing behind Daisy, resting her hand on the chair’s back.

“You sure you wanna see this?” Daisy asks, turning her head slightly to look up at Jemma.

“I _have_ to,” Jemma replies. “I have to know how best to send him a message.”

Daisy sighs, but enters a few commands until a video feed appears on the secondary monitor.

They look at a television in what appears to be a master bedroom in a house or apartment. The screen goes black in-and-out, as if a person was frequently blinking their eyes.

“I’m getting tired,” Jemma hears Fitz’s voice through the speakers. A hand holding a remote appears on the screen and the television flickers off.

When his vision shifts direction, Jemma sees her own eyes staring back at her. She’s smiling. Or it. The simulation.

A wave of nausea creeps up Jemma’s stomach.

“Yeah,” her own voice can be heard, “it’s not like we’ll be able to sleep in.”

“Find me, Daisy,” Jemma blurts out. “Find my simulation. You need to control her. Make it so I can talk through her.”

Daisy briefly looks up and nods, then bends back over the keyboard. “Might take a minute or so,” she mumbles apologetically. “This isn’t exactly basic C++.”

Jemma draws in a slow breath and watches as her face inches closer to the screen. Then it goes dark for a moment, only the telling noises over the speakers letting her imagine the kiss Fitz is sharing with whatever version of Jemma AIDA had created.

“Just gonna check on her,” Fitz says when his eyes reopen, revealing Jemma’s smiling face. A smile that is warm and teasing.

“Fitz,” her simulation replies. “It’s not like she can _go_ anywhere.”

Jemma’s heart beats frantically in her chest at the implication of what this conversation means.

“Almost there,” Daisy briefly interrupts Jemma’s thoughts, continuing to type vigorously.

Jemma’s eyes widen when she sees a crib appear on the screen, a swaddled infant lying sleeping in its center.

Tears shoot to her eyes. This is his dream. His perfect world. She felt their plan crumbling. He had no reason to ever want to leave. She wished she were right there with him.

“I’m in,” Daisy exclaims, making Jemma gasp in surprise.

She hears Daisy mutter a quiet “Fuck,” when she sees Fitz pick up the infant.

Jemma takes a deep breath, forcing her eyes away from their daughter. She wasn’t real. Nothing in there was real.

“How can I talk to him?” she asks Daisy, determination in her voice. She was not about to lose him to a machine. She was his link to the real world. She’d get him back. She had to!

“Just type what you want to say in the dialogue field there,” Daisy explains, pointing at the screen. “I’ve overwritten the automated algorithms as best I can with the time I had. The program will adapt and the Jemma in there should say what you’re typing… Well, the program _should_ adapt,” she adds, crossing her fingers, a sheepish look on her face.

Jemma listens to the quiet soothing noises Fitz hushes into their daughter’s ear. They echo like white noise over the speakers in the dungeon-like concrete-walled room. The screen is black. Fitz’s eyes are closed.

Jemma takes a deep breath and leans down to type, fighting back tears.

“Quite a strange feeling, isn’t it? Never wanting to be without someone,” her voice can be heard over the speakers and the screen comes back on when Fitz opens his eyes in the simulation, Jemma’s figure standing in the doorframe.

“It really is,” he replies quietly.

“I’m not Hydra, Fitz,” Jemma types and her words are repeated out loud in the simulation.

There’s a moment of silence. The screen looks like a still image. Fitz’s eyes don’t move.

“I’m not an LMD,” Fitz replies calmly.

Jemma gasps, while Daisy looks at her questioningly.

“That’s it! Right?” Daisy mutters. “He knows?”

“I think so,” Jemma whispers, and leans down to type, the keys in front of her swimming in a blurry sea of tears.

“What are you then?” Jemma’s voice asks over the speakers.

“I’m the link,” Fitz replies. “You’re my constant.”

His eyes wander to the sleeping baby in his arms, before looking back at Jemma’s simulation. “Told you I’d fight it.”

Jemma has to lean on the table in front of her to stop herself from breaking down. She covers her mouth with her hand, trying to silence the sobs bubbling to the surface, trying to steady her breathing. She feels Daisy’s reassuring hand on her back.

On the screen, Fitz puts the baby back into the crib and walks over to Jemma’s simulation. “Copy me into the other programs,” he tells her. “Let’s right this wrong. We’ll get them out. I’m on the inside. You’re on the outside. We fix it together.”

Jemma stares silently at Daisy, her hand still pressed against her lips. She nods at her friend, and Daisy understands her silent plea.

Daisy leans over the keyboard and types.

“Together,” Jemma replies in the simulation.

 

* * *

 

It takes them several more hours until Fitz, Mack, Mace, Coulson, May, and Radcliffe have been released from the Framework and the system has been fully shut down.

Mace and May are hit the hardest; May having been in the simulation far longer than any of the others and Mace’s body weakened from torture and the poisonous effects of the strength-enhancing serum.

But everyone gets back to the Playground alive.

Jemma tends to those needing medical attention, working on autopilot while her mind worries about Fitz, who had immediately retreated to their bunk.

 

* * *

 

Daisy leaves it to May’s LMD to put Radcliffe into his holding cell. He doesn’t put up a fight.

Once he had realized that Agnes’ subconscious had died along with the framework, it was as if his life had been sucked out of him as well.

He had begged the longest to remain in the Framework while they had tried to get everyone out. But they weren’t willing to let him get away so easily with everything he had put them through.

May’s LMD smiles confidently at Daisy. “My work here is done,” she says and hands Daisy a small tablet. “Pretty sure you’ve figured out by now how those controls work,” she adds.

“I’m sorry,” Daisy says quietly.

“I’m not,” May replies. “Do me a favor?” she adds.

“What’s that?”

“Tell May not to wait forever. To follow her heart.”

Daisy nods, before pressing the button to turn the LMD off.

 

* * *

 

It’s way past midnight when Jemma finally gets to their bunk.

He sits on their bed, still fully clothed, his button-up dusty, one sleeve ripped from trying to escape the LMDs who had infiltrated the Playground almost three days ago.

“How’s Mace?” Fitz asks quietly.

Jemma holds on to the chest of drawers next to the door and bends down to take off her shoes. “He’s stable,” she replies matter-of-factly.

“What about May?”

Jemma sighs, her feet rooted to the spot next to the entrance door. “We had to sedate her,” she reports, unable to hide the sadness in her voice. “She was disoriented. Upset. Understandably so.”

Jemma scoffs. “She was living a new life, a _happy_ life. And now she’s been thrown back into this reality. It’s all chaos. She doesn’t know anymore what to believe, what’s real, what’s—” Her voice breaks off as she exhales a shaky breath, her eyes wandering to the ground.

“You know a little something about being thrown back into a world you should be familiar with but aren’t anymore,” Fitz says quietly.

Slowly, Jemma raises her head. “Yeah,” she whispers, tears in her eyes.

“May wasn’t there for six months,” Fitz remarks. “She’ll recover.” The corner of his mouth quirks into a reassuring smile. “You did,” he adds. “And May’s _almost_ as strong as you are.”

Jemma rolls her eyes and chuckles briefly at his compliment. “She wasn’t ripped away from a hell planet though. She was ripped away from a world where she felt at peace.” She blinks and a single tear escapes, rolling down her cheek. “When has May ever been at peace?”

“She’ll recover,” Fitz repeats.

His blue eyes gaze at her, encourage her to start believing in his words, to repeat them in her mind, like a mantra, a silent plea.

Almost involuntarily, Jemma feels herself smile. She nods and walks over to the bed, sitting down next to him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers.

“What for?” he asks, looking at her surprised.

“I saw it,” Jemma mutters, barely loud enough for him to hear. “What you had. I’m sorry for taking it away.” She shrugs. “I wouldn’t have wanted to leave that dream.”

Fitz scoffs quietly, reaching around her shoulders and pulling her closer. “It wasn’t real, Jemma,” he replies. “You didn’t take anything from me, because _that_ … what I saw… what I had… that wasn’t a dream.”

His hand gently glides across her hair, and she feels his lips placing a kiss to her head as she listens to his heartbeat. “That was our future,” Fitz adds, and Jemma feels her stomach tighten, her heart quicken at his words.

“Where was it?” she asks, her fingers drawing lazy patterns on his shirt.

“Wanna take a wild guess?” Fitz replies, placing his free hand over the one on his chest.

Jemma’s lips twitch happily. “Perthshire?” she whispers.

“Yeah,” Fitz confirms, pulling her hand to his lips and kissing it gently. “Modeled after a cottage I’d looked at online.”

Jemma lifts her head to look at him. “You’ve—?” she starts, but he answers before she can even finish her question.

“Window shopping,” he replies and nods.

A smile flashes across her face. “I didn’t know that you—”

“Think about our future?” he finishes her thought. “’F course. Haven’t you?”

She smiles shyly. “Of course I have,” she admits. She swallows and asks the question that’s been burning on her lips. “How old was she?”

He smiles. “Two and a half months.”

“And her name?” Jemma can barely hear her own voice, whispering so quietly as if the secrets of the world were being revealed to her.

“Teresa,” Fitz tells her. “Tessa.”

Jemma stifles a sob. “Like my grandmother?”

Fitz nods.

“Were you there? When she was born?” Jemma asks, intertwining her fingers with his.

“No,” Fitz replies. “And yet I have memories of it. It’s weird,” he adds quietly.

“She looked perfect,” Jemma recalls, resting her head back on Fitz’s shoulder.

“She was,” Fitz replies. “Too perfect.” He sighs. “It was _all_ too perfect.”

“You knew?” Jemma asks, lifting her head to see his face.

“Not for sure,” Fitz admits. “It felt real. _So_ real, but… something wasn’t right. Tessa slept like a champ, and I know there’s kids who do that right from the start, but she was just… she was so easy. Perfect like you’d _imagine_ your perfect baby to be.” He sighs. “And there were other little things. You didn’t have night terrors. Your nightlight wasn’t there. My hand… no muscle spasm. Ever. Never struggled to remember words. AIDA deleted all that because she thought taking these negative things away would make the scenario perfect, more pleasant. But it didn’t feel right. It was _too_ perfect.”

“Is there such a thing?” Jemma contemplates thoughtfully.

Fitz chuckles, his hand gliding up and down her arm. “Yes,” he replies. “All these things, no matter how painful, they’re a part of us and they remind us of what we’ve overcome.”

Jemma lifts her head and sits up on her knees, looking at Fitz with questioning eyes.

He straightens up a little and reaches for her hands with his. “Your imperfections are what make you perfect to me, Jemma,” he says, his eyes shimmering behind a curtain of tears.

Jemma blinks, feeling her own tears glide down her cheeks.

Fitz reaches for her cheek, his thumb wiping away the watery trails. “Our scars, visible or not, they’re part of our story, part of what brought us here, part of what we’ll become. We’re not perfect.” He shrugs. “But we’ve got the right things wrong with us.”

She chuckles sadly, closing her eyes when she notices him leaning closer, savoring the sensation of his lips gently brushing against hers.

Absentmindedly, her hand moves to his cheek when he breaks the kiss. His stubble feels rough against her fingertips and his face blurs in front of her as her mind drifts off.

“What are you thinking?” Fitz asks quietly, bringing her back to reality.

Jemma sighs, a sad smile playing on her lips. “I still wish I could have been there. Felt her. Held her.”

Fitz tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “You will,” he says. “ _We_ will.” He shrugs. “Maybe it won’t be a girl,” he adds. “Maybe it’ll be a boy or a dog or a—”

“Don’t say monkey,” Jemma interjects, rolling her eyes.

Fitz lets out a single laugh. “We will have it,” he continues, looking at her with determination, his hand now curled around her neck, massaging it gently. “I’m not doubting that for a second. It’s what I see for us. I _know_ it’s gonna happen. Maybe not exactly like that. But with one definite constant: _Us._ Together.”

He inhales slowly and straightens up, taking her hands into his. “In fact,” he states, “I promise you _right_ now that I will marry you.”

Jemma chuckles in surprise. “Is that a reverse proposal?” she asks.

“It is if you want it to be.”

Jemma feels her eyes once again welling up, but this time her tears are flavored with happiness. “I will marry you too,” she replies, smiling back at him. “ _And_ we will have a family,” she adds. “Whatever that might look like.”

His eyes sparkle happily. “So the monkey’s back on the table?” he asks, grinning mischievously.

Jemma rolls her eyes. “The monkey will _never_ be on the table, Fitz,” she says sternly.

“I can live with that,” Fitz replies, before closing the gap between them and melting his lips into hers.

**Author's Note:**

> It’s my headcanon that Jemma sleeps with a nightlight ever since she came back from Maveth (one that Fitz gave her ;) I have a little [ficlet](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8899189) about how she got her first nightlight ;) and the head canon is also mentioned in ["Grand Gestures"](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8496307) )


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